softly she breathes

night coats her head

I wish I lay in a different bed

 

some women thrill

one look inflames

their kicks come from playing games

 

she's too banal

her lips lukewarm

the polar reverse of a sensual storm

 

no excitement

zero surprise

I know exactly what's behind those eyes

 

it's been one year

itchy my feet

not enough her being merely sweet

 

morning filters

my gloomy thoughts

last night I must have been out of sorts

 

dawn befits her

firm bosoms trim

she'll do to satisfy my morning whim

 

her tone is firm

fills me with dread

"You bore me, I want you out" she said